And then there was this:
'Ouise:
My way of dealing with ITW was to make up two alternate endings (I needed two because my sister still likes Riley, while I only liked him for the first half of last season).
Version 1 (Riley goes): Buffy gets a resolute look on her face, and races off across town. She arrives as the helicopter takes off, and yells to Riley ... who hears her and looks down. She waves to make sure he's watching and then gives him the finger.
Version 2 (Riley stays): Buffy runs across town, arrives as the helicopter takes off and with a mighty leap grabs hold of the ski-thing at the bottom. She climbs in, grabs the startled Riley, hauls him out by the back of his jacket and jumps down after him. She then tosses his unconscious body over her shoulder and goes trotting off into the woods...
David J. Schwartz:
Or how about this scenario: Buffy comes rushing out of the woods, trips over a root, and one of her impractical shoes is launched up into the rotors, causing a fiery crash which takes the life of Riley, the militia leader and wood-face Graham.
Betsy Hanes Perry:
Oh, bliss. And the falling helicopter tragically destroys Willow's closet. One ricocheting fragment destroys the local head shop, forcing her to visit the Gap.
RIO! Glad you're not hurt. Accidents are scary and suck.
When my mom started watching "Once More With Feeling" with me she said "Why are they wearing those clothes?" when the Willow and Tara in the Park segment started.
We were interrupted by Steve whining about me playing the episode 1)again and 2) too loud and she never got to see the rest because we were annoyed at him and went off to do something else.
Someday I want my mom to see that ep and "The Body," dammit.
Might have to wait until I kick Steve out this spring. (I hope)
RIO! I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE OKAY.
It is snowing very hard here. I should shower and put on clothes I didn't sleep in, yet inertia is pressing me into my chair.
I now have what promises to be KICK ASS banana bread in the oven, so I think I might take a nap.
GAH! There was just a creepy guy in the laundry room changing his pants.
He was all, "OMIGOD! So Sorry!"
There isn't enough sorry.
Aww, Rio, I'm sorry about your nice fancy car getting all banged up with the wrecking and the anxiety and the stress AND WHO NEEDS THAT SHIT WHEN YOU'RE PLANNING A WEDDING ANYWAY?!?
Wow. We started getting a few flakes here a half an hour ago, and now the snow is falling like crazy. The street is already covered. Not enough wind to make it a blizzard yet, though.
I am dealing with this state of affairs by having tomato soup and making maple oatmeal bread. All hail the bread machine.
